


My Very Own Doubtful Guest

by Toozmanykids



Series: Second Chances [1]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston RPF
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, F/M, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-01 09:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16762363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toozmanykids/pseuds/Toozmanykids
Summary: Catching up with an old friend becomes more complicated than Tom expected. A lot can happen in ten years. Maybe he should have called!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfiction. I desperately need to thank my dear RedKitsune for polishing the edges and giving me the courage to post this.  
> Please let me know what you think. Good, bad, ugly?

"It came seventeen years ago - and to this day

It has shown no intentions of going away."

***Quoted from The Doubtful Guest by Edward Gorey

_________________________

A shiny silver Lexus pulled up in front of a California bungalow, nestled precariously into the western side of San Leandro Hills. The car door slowly opened and an exceptionally tall, lean man stepped out, stretching his hands up so high that he might've touched the heavens if he went up onto his tiptoes. His shirt, already a bit disheveled from driving in the car for an hour was fully pulled free, exposing his narrow waist after such a stretch.

He glanced around at his surroundings, as he continued to stretch his back, twisting this way and that, rolling his head forward in attempt to relieve the lingering stiffness in his neck. A little voice in his head scolded him: 'Buck up, old man! Stop whining and tuck your shirt back in so you don’t look like a hobo.' Meanwhile, a second little voice piped up: 'Or just take the shirt right off. Imagine, old man, how nice a massage would feel for those knots in your back. If you play your cards right...' For the moment, he chose to go with voice number one, and tucked his shirt back in. Voice number two was right that a massage would feel great. But today required diplomacy rather than a Don Juan.

His curly, dark blonde hair was brushed back off his face. His beard was trimmed short and more reddish brown than blonde. Of course, with a couple stray gray hairs invading his chin these past couple years, the beard may look blond again at some point. Or it might at least from a distance, he reassured himself occasionally.

The neighborhood was quiet, with narrow curvy streets that twisted awkwardly between the eclectic mix of houses. The buildings were uncomfortably close together and only set back a few feet off the street. This made it feel more overcrowded than it really was. Luckily most people were still at work, meaning a parking spot was available right out front. In a few more hours, once everyone was home for dinner, the closest available parking spot might be blocks away.

An older woman was working in the yard across the street. She had stopped working to watch as he stretched and unrolled his sleeves before putting his suit jacket back on.

He waved when he saw her, shouting, "Greetings, Mrs. Dixon! Your garden has never looked so lush! I can smell the roses from here!" 

As soon as he spoke with that hypnotic British accent and flashed his million dollar smile, it was obvious that she recognized exactly which prince charming had stepped out of that luxury car. Mrs. Dixon's face lit up, as she waved back. 

"Well, hello Tom! What a sight you are!" She started walking toward him, already giggling with excitement to see the man.

He quickly reached back into his car, and popped back up with a bright yellow sunflower in hand. Jogging over to the woman, he handed her the sunflower with a slight bow and a warm smile.

"For you, my Lady Dixon. To match your bright and sunny smile."

"Oh Tom. You are such a charmer! Now come down here to give an old lady one of those manly bear hugs. Why have you stayed away so long?" She held onto him stooped over for her as long as he would let her. Once he pulled away, she started rubbing his arms. "My goodness! You have really grown up and out! Heavens to Betsy, Tom! Look how beefy you are now! Last I saw you, you were still just a skinny, lanky boy. Look at you now! I'm going to put you to work, with all that muscle. You just let me know when you have time. I've got a list a mile long for ya."

"Will do, Mrs. Dixon! I'll be happy to help with whatever you need while I'm here." Waving to her, he walked back to the car while still wearing that smile that could melt an iceberg.

He would be happy to help her out. She had always been very kind to him, and generous. She could bake sweets fit for a king, or a Prince Charming, and his sweet tooth was no secret. The table in her home was always covered with cakes, pies, and cookies needing to be tested. It was a task which he happily obliged with raving feedback whenever given the opportunity.

He only grabbed one bag out of the trunk, he could bring the rest of his stuff in later. It was probably best if first impressions implied that he was just here for a short visit. Grabbing the bouquet of flowers from the front seat and locking the car door before glancing at his reflection in the car window, he ran fingers through his hair. It was a curly mess right now, so the motion was more of habit than a genuine attempt to fix anything. Taking a deep breath, a small smile crept onto his face as he finally started up toward the door, one step at a time. 

He stood there a moment, staring at the house and gathering up one last much needed morsel of courage. With one last deep breath, he began the short walk up the steep driveway and even steeper steps toward the front porch.

The house looked the same it had ten years ago. Wow, had it really been ten years since he'd been back here? Had it been ten years since they'd even spoken? It was good to be back.

At first glance, very little had been added, changed, or improved. A few new plants out front and a new tree along the side, but otherwise it had the same pale yellow stucco with white trim. The window sills were peeling again. Maybe he could give those a quick scrap and paint while he was here. It would feel good to help out a little. Maybe a little home repair would help mend any broken bridges or residual hurt feelings.

He continued to just stand there, still staring at the house as a few moments turned into a few more minutes. A normal, considerate friend would have called first to ask if they could come visit. But when had he ever been a normal friend, let alone considerate. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself at the thought of how surprised she would be to see him after all this time. He could guarantee it wouldn't be a pleasant surprise at first.

She never enjoyed his spontaneity. In fact, she outright despised things that weren't planned out. That's what made surprising her all the sweeter, wrenching her out of her comfort zone. It wouldn't be any fun if it was easy. Besides, she would soften up and come around, eventually. She always did but until that point, he'd enjoy every moment of riling her up.

He fondly remembered how beautiful she was when she was angry and flustered. Of course, frequently he was the cause. Closing his eyes, he took a brief moment to remember those moments of perfection when she would finally forgive him.

Nerves and excitement mixed and made his heart beat faster. The whole drive from the airport he had imagined how it was going feel to sweep her up into his arms again in a tight bear hug. Yet as he stood there at the door, he just hoped she would still answer it once she realized it was him.

The doorbell still had tape over it. Maybe that was another thing he could fix while he was here. After a firm rap on the door, he waited while shifting his weight from foot to foot. Turning, he took in the view. It was breathtaking, absolutely breathtaking. Even on a hazy afternoon like today, the other side of the bay was still visible.

The view could look so different depending what time if year it was. They had spent so many hours sitting out on the porch, talking late into the night, watching the city lights twinkle, the planes pass over head, and the stars shift slowly as the night hours flew by.

After a few minutes of staring off into the distance, a car driving by pulled him from his thoughts. He turned back to the door and gave another hard knock. This time he heard commotion inside. Several voices shouting at each other could be heard before movement in the window caught his eye. A little curly blonde head with 2 eyes and a nose peeked out from behind the curtain.

Well, this was a surprise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not unlike a vampire, Tom needs to convince someone to invite him into the house. Should be as easy as taking candy from a baby, right? Perhaps bribery may work?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again Redkitsune has been my lifesaver and guardian angel. Thank goidness she didn't let me post what I first wrote. Her collections box is bursting with all the overused commas she pulled from these first 2 chapters. If it worked like a swear jar, she'd be rich already.
> 
> Please note that this truly is not about the REAL Tom. This Tom is a complete figment of my imagination, except that many details are based on the real Tom. So, I guess that's the definition of Real Person Fiction, right?

"When they answered the bell on that wild winter night, 

There was no one expected - and no one in sight." 

***Quoted from The Doubtful Guest, by Edward Gorey. 

________________________ 

Tom's brain went into reboot mode as he stared at the bright little face pressed against the window. The new variable of children added another dimension to his hopes and expectations. He thought about all the possibilities waiting for him through that door. Luckily, flexibility and spontaneity were strengths he loved to exercise.

As the child withdrew from his perch he yelled to someone else, "There's a man at the door! He's got flowers! Do you think they're for me?"

Another face appeared in the window looking exactly like the face that had just left. The definitive clue that this was a new face was that now two identical sets of eyes peered out at him. One. Two. Two perfect little copies of each other left multiple smears on the window from their sticky little hands and their wet little noses. 

Once the faces retreated again, scuffling and shuffling sounds came directly from the other side of the door before it finally opened.

Suddenly four little round faces stared at him from the other side of the glass security door. They each had curly blonde hair, super fair skin, and bright blue eyes. The three little boys and one little girl all looked far more curious than scared. 

The pair of identical matching faces were the shortest and the boldest. Climbing over each other like puppies, the two littlest ones delivered several questions all at once with each question shouted louder than the last.

"Who are you? Who are the flowers for? Are the flowers for mommy? Are you here to play? What's in the bag? Are you Clark who kills the ants?"

The older two children just stared, waiting for answers. Of course the children weren't the only ones wide-eyed and staring. Tom wasn't expecting to see children at the door. It took a few moments before the shock of seeing them wore off and his brain fully re-engaged back into the here and now. 

Why wouldn't she have kids by this point? It was ten years ago that she and 'what's-his-name' tied the knot. Lots of things can happen in ten years. To happen four times was just far more than Tom had expected. Honestly, he hadn't even considered that she would probably have children.

Ten years. A lot can change in ten years. This was the first moment that doubt tried to weasel in. Why hadn't he considered that he might not be welcome? What if she won't forgive him? But all things considered, it was most definitely too late to retreat now. 

Shedding his momentary look of surprise and doubt, his face morphed into a bright full smile that spread from ear to ear and overflowed out of his eyes. He'd never seen such beautiful children in his life. He wanted nothing more than to sweep each one up in his arms and listen to every word they had to say. But first, he had to convince them to open the door.

"Well, hello! I'm your Uncle Tommy."

The looks on their faces didn't show any recognition to the name Uncle Tom. Maybe she had never mentioned him to them. He buried these new feelings of disappointment and continued to focus on the children.

"I've brought these flowers for your mum. Do you think she'll like them? I know she likes rainbows so I tried to get flowers in every color."

Squatting down to their level, he held the bouquet close to the door for the kids to see better. All four noses pressed against the glass door as Tom gently dug through the bouquet. Identifying each flower with its corresponding color in the rainbow, he paused at all the right moments. The children couldn't resist helping him recite the colors.

"These roses are...." He lifted two roses out of the bouquet, just barely opened. After taking a deep dramatic sniff, he looked expectantly at the children.

"Red!" the two little boys shouted.

Nodding his head in approval, Tom warmly smiled at each child in turn. He set the roses down on the little table next to the door before continuing. 

"What color comes next in the rainbow? Does anyone know?"

All the children were easily old enough to know their rainbow colors but none of them dared to answer yet. Instead they waited with baited breath, watching every move he made as though he was about to do a magic trick. He slowly moved his fingers through the top of the bouquet, lightly fingering the petals, appearing to study them closely. Gently digging his hands into the arrangement again he lifted out a huge Gerber daisy the size of a saucer.

"This daisy is your mum's favorite color. I'm sure you all know what her favorite color is."

Everyone's eyes were locked on the daisy as he spun it between his fingers like a pinwheel. As though they were in a trance, no one said a word until he asked again. "What's your mum's favorite color?"

Suddenly pulling their eyes free from the flower, they all shouted out the answer as loud as they could.

"ORANGE!"

The children burst into giggles when Tom dramatically rolled back off his haunches as though a powerful blast had knocked him down, with his feet now kicking in the air.

"Whoa!!!" he yelled. ""I'll surely never doubt your color knowledge again, my friends."

Staying on his back he pretended to have trouble getting back up. A few deep sounding groans and grunts supported his claims of helplessness. He even made another obviously faux attempt to get up, before sighing loudly in defeat. 

"Would any of you Good Samaritans please help this old man get up? I seem to be stuck and I would be so ashamed if your mum found me like this. I feel like a turtle stuck on his back, belly up." 

Before he even finished his plea the oldest child unlocked a series of locks and the door flung open. All four kids rushed to help him up. Two children took each of his hands and pulled, while the other two children pushed him up, not so gently from behind his neck and head. With a few more goofy grunts and straightening his shirt and jacket with exaggeration, he stayed sitting on the porch with his long legs stretched out in front of him.

The chaos that four happy kids can create was now evident. Tom just sat and chuckled, feeling his heart swell as they all talked at once, each asking a dozen questions without waiting for answers. They tugged on his sleeves, climbed on his back, and endlessly circled around him, both gingerly and clumsily jumping over his outstretched legs. They showed no sign of slowing down.

He finally spread his arms out wide to get their attention, still holding the bouquet in one hand and the daisy in the other.

"OK. OK. OK. Hold up a second before one of us gets dizzy. And that'll probably be me watching how fast you all are. Instead who wants to hold the orange daisy?"

All four overexcited children lunged to grab the flower, but Tom's long arm kept the flower out of everyone's reach far above his head. This did not detour their attempts to climb up onto his shoulders though. Fortunately no one was wearing shoes, since again they tumbled all over each other like a litter of puppies. 

"Hold on! We've got tons of flowers. Will anyone want to help me get them ready for your mum?"

Finally slowing down with eyes wide in anticipation, they all nodded their heads emphatically as their hands shot up into the air volunteering to help.

"I will! I'll help! Mommy will love it! Can I help? I want to help! Can I have a flower, too?"

Carefully looking at each child, he asked, "Who's the oldest?"

The little girl immediately piped up, "I am!"

Tom leaned forward and handed her the orange flower. "Would you hold this for us, Miss.... Miss...?" As they both still held the flower stem, he leaned back with a frown and a gasp. "My dear! I apologize! I don't know your name."

"My name is Melody Baker," the little girl stated with a very proper grown up tone, immediately lighting up with pride.

Letting go of the daisy, Tom took her free hand in his and shook it with grandiose formality. His face and voice adopted the same proper tone as he greeted her in return.

"What a pleasure, Miss Melody Baker. I am Mr. Thomas Hiddleston. But since I've been friends with your mum for over 20 years, you are most welcome to call me Uncle Tommy."

Before he had a chance to turn to the three boys, everyone was startled to attention by a loud curt voice coming from just the inside the door.

"Who the hell are you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I'm also on Tumblr. @dangertoozmanykids101 so hook up with me there too. I'm an insatiable reader, and crave reading recommendations. Come say hi.
> 
> This is my first fiction. Comments and constructive criticism are desperately wanted. Please don't hesitate. I'll soak up advice like a sponge. 
> 
> I'm honestly still shocked that I finally worked up the courage to post this. Of course, I repeatedly say that everyone here is at a different point in their journey. Well, I am at the very beginning, bc ya gotta start somewhere. Right?
> 
> "The Doughtful Guest" by Edward Gorey is a big favorite of mine that I remember from when I was little. I'm a huge Edward Gorey fan. You may remember the opening of Mystery Theater on PBS? That animation was Edward Gorey.  
> https://youtu.be/CG7SyxaXGwU


End file.
